Deadly Secrets
by C. T. Torris
Summary: One of Steve's former PAL kids is in deep trouble---and only Steve can save her. Chapter 6 now up. Please R/R.
1. secrets

Ok, obviously I don't own _Diagnosis Murder_ or Mark, Steve, Amanda, and Jesse.  Although, I wouldn't necessarily _mind_ owning Jesse... anyways.  I do own Fiona, Michelle, and anyone else in this story than the above mentioned.  I don't mind you using them in any other stories (Heck!  That would be cool!), just tell me where so I can read it.  Um.... that's all for now.  Sit back and relax.

~~~~~~CT~~~~~~ 

Fiona Burr walked quickly, as if she were trying to get away from something, down the halls of Walker Valley High School, apprehensive.  The sound of the other students' horseplay did little to muffle the sound of her heart pounding in fear against her chest.  She knew what she saw, but she didn't know what to do about it.  _Should I tell, and be a pariah at my own school and risk my life, or forget it ever happened and live with the guilt for the rest of my life?_ she mulled to herself.

"Hey Fi," a voice called out of the crowd.  "Fi?" Fiona blinked herself out of her fog.

"Huh? What?" she asked to the girl who was vying for her attention.  Her perfect blond hair bounced against her porcelain skin as she ran to Fiona. She peered at Fiona with her gray eyes.

"You know that it isn't a big deal, don't you?" the girl asked.

"Listen, Michelle, it is.  It is a _VERY_ big deal, and you are going to be caught."

Michelle's eyes darkened to cobalt.  "And how will I be caught?" she hissed.

"I-I don't know," Fiona admitted, running her hand through her purple close-cropped hair.

"I thought so," Michelle said with a smug smile.  She flipped her hair in Fiona's face as she bounced off.  Fiona squeezed her green eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose.

~~~~~CT~~~~~


	2. flashback

There is a bit of violence in this chapter, but it shouldn't be too bad.  Tootles! 

~~~~~CT~~~~~

Fiona walked barefooted down the beach of the ocean she loved so much, but this time she didn't even see two feet in front of her face.  Most of her thoughts were turned to her dilemma and not to the outside world.

All of a sudden, a terrible rage over everything enveloped her, and she broke out into a full run, a mad, blind run.  She ran away as fast as she could from everything, or she ran as fast as she could to something; she couldn't tell.  Her anger quickly belonged to the sand and seashells.  A mile or two later, she collapsed into a lump of breathless exhaustion, fear, and hopelessness.

Her whole body convulsed as she began to sob.  She sobbed out a mixture of hiccups, epitaphs, curses, and anything she could thing of for well over an hour.

All of this took its toll on her body, and she sank into a thankfully sleeping unconsciousness.

(flashback)

"John!  P-please, d-don't," she begged, her voice a frightened whisper.

"Sweetheart, you're mine, and I can do anything I want to you," John Logan said with an evil laugh.  He began to undo his pants when the door opened to the small shack where they were.  "What the—"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" a very angry Michelle demanded of John.

John strode over to Michelle and backhanded her.  She flew to the ground.  Fiona could see from her perspective that as Michelle fell, her outer shirt flipped open just enough for Fiona to see the gun tucked into Michelle's pants.  Michelle tried to wink through her pain to Fiona to say, _I've got your back._  Fiona understood this and silent nodded.

John walked back over to a prone Fiona.  "Now, where was I?" he muttered to himself.  Fiona lifted her legs up and swiftly kicked John in his male genitalia.  He fell to the floor with a thud.  Michelle stood up over John, gun in hand and pulled the trigger.  Her hands didn't shake as a single bullet penetrated John's skull.

(end flashback)

She woke up with a start, her heart dancing in her ribcage.  The dream-no, flashback-tore her from her temporary respite.

She was hit with sudden fatigue.  She so badly wanted to get up, to go home, but her legs wouldn't comply with the request.  She struggled futilely with trying to get the energy to get up for a few minutes, but she sank back in the sand.

Fiona scoped out her surroundings and thought this bit of shore was familiar.  She racked her brain to figure out why.  Then it hit her.

---After her biological parents were killed when she was 11, she was place in a foster home and was pegged as a trouble child.  Because of this, she was place in PAL, Police Activities League, and met Steve Sloan for the first time.  

He stood in front of the two new additions to PAL.  "Hello Fiona and Pam.  I'm Det. Sloan, and I'm your sponsor...."

Fiona's attention to Steve faded away with each word, so she looked around the Never Say Die gym.  The boxing ring was the first thing to catch her attention, and she eyed it until Steve finished his speech.

"So, uh, when do we get to fight and stuff?" she asked.

"You get to fight when you learn how to punch and block correctly."

"I know how to punch and block, and I most certainly can keep from getting punched," she said, meeting Steve's eyes with a defiant stare.  He knew she would be a tough nut to crack, but the fighting spirit in her could be harnessed so it could be cracked easier.---

Fiona smiled faintly as she remembered the detective.  It had been almost two years since she had seen him last.  The last time she was at the Never Say Die gym, she was seen to be a well-adjusted, normal teenager.  She remembered seeing the pride shining in Steve's eyes as she said good-bye to him.  The last words he said to her rang in her ears.  "If you ever get in trouble, or you just need to talk, call me up anytime." 

That bit of memory gave her the energy to stand up.  She gasped in pain as she looked down at her feet.  She didn't remember the shells cutting into her feet, but now, that she wasn't overwhelmed by her emotions, the lacerations on the bottom of her feet stung with every step she took.  She gritted her teeth as she walked around the front and knocked on the door.  A few minutes later, Steve answered it, took one look at her, and said, "Fiona?"

She nodded tearfully as she sank into his arms, sobbing again.

~~~~~CT~~~~~


	3. painful cuts

~~~~~CT~~~~~

Steve stood with Fiona in his arms for 10 minutes until he moved her to the living room and sat down on the couch until she calmed down enough to speak.

"S-sor-ry," she said, her breath hitched.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he assured her.  "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I-I," she said.  She faltered.  _What should I tell him, if anything?_ she asked herself.  She took a deep breath and tried to begin again.  "I h-had a f-fight with m-my friend, M-Michelle.  W-well, n-not r-really a fight, but, it-i-it, I d-don't k-know," she said, starting to cry again.  "T-th-is i-is th-the f-first t-time I-I've c-cried i-in..." was all she got out before she broke down into sobs again.

He worried as he held her.  _What could have happened to make her this upset?_ he asked himself.  He noticed her feet and the still oozing lacerations.  "Fiona, where are your shoes?"

"I-I w-was o-out o-on the b-beach b-bare-barefoot-oted.  I-I g-got m-mad, so I-I b-began t-to r-run," she explained.

"Why did you get mad?" he asked.  He felt her stiffen in his arms.  "Ok, you don't have to talk now, but I'd like my dad to take a look at your feet," he said.  She nodded.  "Ok, he's outside on the deck.  I'm going to get him.  Will you be OK by yourself?"

"Y-yes," she whispered hoarsely.  Steve squeezed her arm as he went to find his dad.

He went out on the deck to find his dad taking a nap, which explained why he hadn't come when Fiona first came or alerted Steve to her arrival.  Steve kneeled down next to the lounge chair and gently shook the older man's shoulder.  "Dad?"

"Huh?" Mark said, bleary-eyed.  He rubbed his eyes and focused on Steve's face.  "Steve? What is it?"

"Do you remember Fiona Burr from PAL?  She left the program about 2 years back," Steve said. 

Mark's brow furrowed as he tried to wake his brain up and remember the girl.  "I, uh-" he started.

Steve dismissed him with a shake of the head.  "Don't worry about that now.  Anyways, she ran about 2 miles on the beach barefooted.  She is very upset and her feet are cut up from the shells."

Mark got up "I'll get my bag.  Where is she?'

"In the living room," Steve said as he and Mark entered the house.  Steve went to the living room to find Fiona asleep on the couch.  He winced at her fetal position, tightly curled up, as to make herself as small as possible.  He crouched down next to her head and waited for his dad who returned a few minutes later.

Mark winced at her shredded feet as he began to examine the lacerations.  "Some of these have pieces of shell in them.  And a couple of them need stitches.  I need to take her to the hospital."

Steve nodded as he began to shake Fiona's arm gently.  She started to stir and was temporarily panicked.  "No, please don't," she whimpered.

"Fiona, wake up.  It's Steve.  It's OK.  Wake up," Steve said, trying to help the fog of sleep lift from Fiona.

Fiona squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head, and opened her eyes.  "Hi Steve," she said.  She looked down to the person touching her feet.  "Mark?" she asked.

Mark smiled warmly as he nodded, "Hello Fiona.  Your feet are cut up pretty badly.  There are a couple of these that need stitches.  Steve and I are going to take you to Community General," Mark said.

Fiona nodded mutely.  "Ok."   

~~~~~CT~~~~~ 


	4. Ms Robinson

Sorry so long for another chapter.  I want to thank everyone for their great reviews...  no flames, please, but if I have screwed up horribly, please tell me so I can fix it.

~~~~~CT~~~~~

Fiona fell back asleep against Steve after Mark and Steve got her in the car.  Everything was quiet for twenty minutes until Fiona began to fight against Steve.  "No!  P-please d-don't," she whimpered.  She began to thrash more and more violently until Steve began to gently shake her.

"Fiona, wake up," he said.  "Wake up.  It's just a nightmare," he said until Fiona sat up, and stared blankly into Steve's blue eyes.  "You're safe," he said again.

"Sorry," she apologized again, her head bowed.

"No need to be sorry," he reiterated.  "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked.

"N-no," she said, as she lay back against Steve.  He hugged her, worried.  She didn't go back to sleep on the rest of the way to the hospital, but laid quietly.  

As Mark pulled up to the familiar entrance of Community General Hospital, Fiona buried her face into his chest and stiffened in fear.  "Shhh, it's ok," Steve whispered for the hundredth time in an hour.  He felt Fiona relax a bit as he got out.  He saw his dad enter the hospital and come out a few minutes later with a wheelchair.  Fiona's eyes narrowed at the sight of the wheelchair, but she didn't say anything as Steve lifted her into it.  He wheeled her into an empty examining room and lifted her to the unlush hospital bed.  Mark came in a few minutes later with a treatment tray and a pair of latex gloves.

Fiona winced and squeezed Steve's had every time Mark pulled out a piece of shell.  "It's good to see you haven't lost your grip," Steve joked.

Fiona's lips curled up slightly at the remark.  "That's what I get for playing piano," she said quietly.  She hissed as Mark gave her the shots of lidocane to numb her feet for sutures.

"Sorry," Mark apologized.

"That's ok.  I know most doctors give horrible shots," she said with a small chuckle.

"Speaking of shot, when have you last had a tetanus shot?  You may not have stepped on metal, but it's better to be safe than sorry," Mark said.

"About two years ago.  Right after I left PAL, I stepped on a nail.  It went clear through my foot," she said, wincing at the memory.  "See that scar right above my big toe?" she pointed out.  Mark nodded.  "That's where it went."

"Ow," he remarked.  "That must have hurt," he said.

"Not at the time.  I was mad at one of my friends, and when I am angry, I don't really feel pain.  When I got calmed down, though, it hurt like a beauty."

Fiona and Steve sat silently for a few more minutes until Mark announced he was done, got up, and went to get bandages, a pair of crutches, and a wheelchair.

After Mark disappeared into the corridor, Steve asked Fiona, "How have you been?"

Fiona averted his gaze and began to stare at her hands.  "Truthfully..." she started.  She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.  "Not too good," she admitted.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked.

"I-I don't want to talk about it right now," she said as Mark came back with the aforementioned items.  He put on an antibiotic analgesic cream under the dressings.  "That feels better.  Thanks," she said with a tight smile.

"You're welcome," he said as he gave her a bottle.  "This is an antibiotic, and this," he said, producing another bottle, "Is for pain."  She looked them over as Steve gently picked her up and put her in the chair.

"What about the crutches?" she asked.

"Hospital policy.  You have to be taken outside with a wheelchair," Mark explained.

Fiona nodded at this.  She looked at her sports watch and grimaced.  "I bet my foster mom is worried sick," she said.  "I said I'd be out for only about thirty minutes, and that has been about two hours."

"Do you want me to call her?" Steve offered.

Fiona chewed on her lower lip, considering the offer.  "Ok," she said.

He walked over to the phone and Fiona gave him the number to call.  She mouthed 'Ms. Robinson' as the person on the other side of the phone answered.

"Hello?"  
  


"Hello, Ms. Robinson?"

"Yes, who's speaking?"

"I'm Lt. Sloan with the LAPD.  Fiona isn't in trouble, but she got injured, so I took her to Community General Hospital," Steve said.

"Thank goodness!  I was about to call the police.  How is she?"

"She's fine, just got her feet cut up a bit.  A couple of the cuts were deep, so my father stitched them up."

"Your father's a doctor?" she asked a bit confused, and then it hit her.  "Oh!  Steve Sloan, from PAL!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, ma'am," he affirmed.

"I want to thank you for helping Fiona, not just now, but in the past." Ms. Robinson said.

"You're welcome.  I think Fiona's anxious to get home.  I'll be there in about 45 minutes," Steve said.

"Ok.  Can I talk to her a minute?" she asked.

"Sure," he said.  Steve handed the phone to Fiona, who shot him a look.

"Hello," she said in a monotone.

"Fiona, sweetie, are you OK?"  Ms. Robinson asked, worry in her voice.

"Sure, I'm fine.  I'll see you in about 45 minutes," she said as she handed Steve back the phone.

"See you," Ms. Robinson said as Steve hung up the phone.

Fiona looked up at Steve and said, "Ready?"

"Sure. Let's get you home," he said as he pushed her to the car.

~~~~~CT~~~~~  


	5. flashback 2

~~~~~CT~~~~~

Fiona sat silently the whole way to her foster mother's house.  As much as she tried, she couldn't keep the images out of her head.

(Flashback)

"Oh my God, Michelle.  Why did you do that for?"  Fiona screeched after the bullet entered John's frontal lobe.

"He was trying to hurt my friend," Michelle answered coolly.  She glared at Fiona's shaking form.  "You're not grateful," she said, keeping emotion out of her voice.

"I-I am, b-but couldn't you have shot him in the arm?" Fiona asked, running her fingers through her short-cropped hair, agitated.  "Oh my God, what are we going to do?" Fiona murmured over and over again.

"We're going to bury him," Michelle said, producing a shovel from the ground.  "And clean up this mess," she said, inclining her head towards the bucket and mop that mysteriously appeared.

A chilling realization hit Fiona, and she ran outside, sick to her stomach.  She came back in and stared Michelle down.  "You meant to kill him the whole time, didn't you?" she asked quietly.  Michelle smiled, her gray eyes turning to ice.

The next three words sent Fiona scrambling once again outside to empty the contents of her stomach.  "Yes. I. Did."

(End Flashback)

As much as Fiona had tried not to drop off to sleep, she quickly succumbed to sleep.  The climax of her flashback brought her awake with a start, and she woke with her heart pounding, her breathing heavy.  

"Fiona?" Steve asked.  She quickly shook her head and struggled to get her breathing under control.

"Fiona, when's the last time you have had a decent night's sleep?" Mark asked.

"Too long," she said with a small smile.  "Probably about 2 weeks."

"When you get home, I'd like to talk to your foster mom about prescribing you a sleeping pill..."  
  


"And refer me to a shrink?" Fiona asked.

"If you think it's necessary," Mark said.

"Maybe," she said.  "I-I don't know, though," she said.  She sank back against the smooth leather seats and closed her eyes.  _I am so tired of this.  I want to tell, but if I do, Michelle will kill me.  And anyone to get out of being put in jail._  She laughed to herself.  The strain of it all was a small price to pay, but at what price?  Her sanity?  A shrink?  _I think it's worth it._


	6. rumination

I'm back!!! *evil laugh fades into* School has been ok, but extra-curriculars have not been too kind for my time.   I shall try writing longer chapters in the future, and here is the story!!!

~~~~~CT~~~~~

After Fiona made her silent vow to herself, she settled back into the leather seats and began to ruminate.

(flashback)

Pam turned to Fiona and grinned.  "I'm Michelle.  Only grown-ups call me Pam."

Fiona stared at a spot on the ground, her body posture obviously screaming _leave me alone_ but Michelle didn't heed the warning.  

"Your name is Fiona?  I had a cat named Fiona, but she got runned over by a car.  My daddy had a car, but he sold it so he could buy more drugs.  Have you ever done drugs...?" Michelle started, but Fiona, after having enough, took Michelle by the arms, shook her and screamed.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!!  I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU!  I DON'T WANT TO HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU, SO LEAVE ME ALONE!"  Michelle's eyes got big before the first tear spilled out.  Fiona stomped off to the locker room.  Steve, hearing Fiona scream, had gone to diffuse the situation before it got any worse, but by the time he got there, Fiona had already stomped off.  He found Michelle sobbing.

"Michelle, where did Fiona go?" Steve asked.

"Sh-sh-she w-went t-to the bath room," Michelle said, her voice hitched.  Steve gave her a hug before he went off to deal with Fiona.

His temper began to mount as he got closer and closer to the locker room, and he found he had to squelch his anger so he wouldn't fly off of the handle, so to speak.

"Fiona Alicia Burr, what to you think you're doing?" Steve demanded, as he saw a puff of smoke escape her mouth.  He looked at her hand, and saw a freshly lit cigarette.

"Smoking.  What are you going to do about it?" she said, defiantly.

"This," he said, as he snatched the cancerous stick out of her hand.

"Hey!  I just lit that!  You owe me a ciggy!"

"These are bad for you.  I just did you a favor."

Fiona just glared at him. 

"Fine then, it's your life.  Don't blame me when you're 30 years old carting around an oxygen tank because you have either lung cancer or emphysema because you smoked when you were nine.  Don't blame me for having to choose between eating and nicotine addiction.  Don't blame me—"

"Alright!  Enough already!" she whined.  Steve suppressed a grin.

"So, why did you yell at Pam?"

"Because she's annoying!  All she ever does it talk and talk and talk!  She got on my nerves."

"So you have a temper?"

"Not really.  Not unless someone makes me mad," Fiona said, looking at Steve.

"Ok.  Come with me," Steve said.

"I'm not apologizing to Pam!"  she said, getting ready to stand her ground.

"I'm not going to make you," Steve said, seeing Fiona relax just a bit.  "Yet."

"Great," she said, dryly.

"Come with me, will you?"  Steve said again.

Fiona studied him, and seeing that he wasn't about to back down, nodded her head as she mumbled, "Great, just great."

(End flashback)

Fiona's reverie was ended as the car entered the driveway of her foster mother.  Ms. Robinson was on the porch of the affluent house to meet the trio.  As soon as the car stopped, she ran to greet her foster daughter.

"Fiona, I was worried sick!  Are you alright?  Are you hurt? Are you-"

"Maggie!  I'm fine.  Just a few stitches, nothing to worry about," Fiona assured.  Maggie looked to the elder doctor to confirm this.

Mark nodded.  "She'll need to come back into the hospital in 10 days to get the stitches taken out.  I've already given Fiona the aftercare instructions."

Maggie breathed a sigh of relief.  "I'm so glad that you're alright," she said, putting an arm on Fiona's shoulder.

"I wish I were alright," Fiona mumbled.

"What?" Maggie asked.

"I'm glad I'm alright," Fiona recovered.  She forced a small smile to convince everyone something they all knew to be false.  Mark, Steve, and Maggie all knew that Fiona wasn't alright.


End file.
